


Fear and Loathing in Earth Dimension C-137

by ghostie_withthemostie



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blood, Drug Use, F/M, Swearing, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostie_withthemostie/pseuds/ghostie_withthemostie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a frequent casual lay and occasional travel companion, you've made your share of questionable decisions at Rick's urging. This time when he shows up, he's got a big evening planned and wants to take you along for the ride. What's one more drug-induced, cross-dimensional adventure, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Load Up On Heinous Chemicals

**Author's Note:**

> Rick Sanchez is basically a science genius Raoul Duke, amirite?
> 
> Will update warnings and tags as this goes along. Not sure where things are headed yet, if I'm completely honest. The violent sex will come later, I'm certain about that.

_“Hey, wake up, c’mon j-just wake the fuck up…”_

Your eyes snap open in the pitch dark of your bedroom, a hand roughly shaking your shoulder. You don’t have to see to know who it is. That gravelly voice and the lingering miasma of brown liquor left no room for doubt.

“Uugghh, what the fuck, Rick?” You murmur groggily, rolling over to turn your back to him. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. His hand grabs the neck of your sleep shirt and yanks you back, depositing you on the ground in an ungraceful heap. “Shit!” You screech, struggling to your feet in the dark.

Rick rushes you before you can stand, wrapping a hand around your throat and holding something small in front of your face. “I got a rreeeaaaaaaal fuckin’ treat for us to-eeuuggh-night, babe.” Rick shakes the item between your eyes, which have adjusted somewhat to the lack of light. Enough, at least, to see that it’s a small vial of some sort. His mouth presses against your ear, his breath hot as he whispers “Brumollyien dust.” He shakes the vial in front of you again, tantalizingly.

“You know I have no idea what that is,” you deadpan, knocking it away and rubbing your eyes.

His grip on your throat tightens and you freeze, the first pulses of adrenaline pumping through you. “I _know_ you don’t know what it is, but I—you’re gonna fucking love it, alright?” He gives you a good shake before shoving you forward and getting to his feet. “Now get up, get dressed. I want to take us somewhere good to enjoy this shit—WOAH.” Rick had reached your bedroom light and switched it on, jumping backward melodramatically when he caught sight of you. “Is-is _that_ your face without makeup? Jesus, just-just-just go fix it…go get ready. Quick. Jeez.”

You flip him the bird as you make your way to your ensuite, brushing your teeth and rinsing your face, giving it a quick layer of tinted moisturizer ( _fuck you, Rick)_. When you come back in, he’s sitting on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the controls on his portal gun. You move to stand in front of him. “Where are we going?”

Rick, no so uncharacteristically, ignores you. You huff. “What’s Bur—moollan…dust?”

“ _Brumollyien_ dust. And you’ll see. Get-get dressed.” His eyes never raise from his favorite invention.

Lifting the hem of the oversized shirt over your head, you allow it to drop to the ground at your feet. You remain directly in front of him, completely bare except for your panties, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

Rick sighs deeply, lifting his gaze with one eyebrow quirked upward. His eyes casually drift over your exposed chest before he lunges forward, his device clattering to the ground as he grabs you by the hips and yanks you toward him between his legs. His teeth sink down onto one fleshy mound, making you cry out, before shoving you harshly backward again. You stare at one another, your gaze full of shock and pain, his holding nothing but a mild annoyance. It’s times like these that remind you that he’s more than a little unhinged; that despite all the fun sex and wild adventures, this is a man to be taken seriously. And treated cautiously. _Doesn’t mean he has to be an asshole_ all _the time_ , you think. You glare at him, rubbing the sore spot on your breast.

He’s already reaching down to retrieve his gun, his little outburst pushed to the side and ignored, like so much else. “Seriously, juh-just get fuckin’ dressed. More time for that—for all that later, I promise.”

You stomp over to your closet, standing in front of your wardrobe with your arms crossed petulantly. “Whaaat am I supposed to wear?” You whine.

“I-I-I don’t know…that…that _thing_ you wore that time. With the—the one I like.” He gestured vaguely with one arm before returning his attention to the portal’s calibration.

Rick had complimented something you were wearing a grand total of one time, so, thankfully, you knew the garment he had in mind immediately. It was a dress made of stretchy, black and white striped material. Tight, long sleeved, and hitting you mid-thigh, it wasn’t anything fancy. The thing you liked best about it (and you assume Rick did, too) was the long zipper down the back, which was a deep, vibrant red. You shimmied into it and briefly entertained the thought of turning your back to Rick and looking over your shoulder coyly, waiting for him to zip you up… _yeah, right._ After a tiny struggle and a slightly tweaked shoulder muscle, you managed just fine on your own. Stepping into your favorite boots, you made your way back to Rick with your arms spread as if to say “Happy now?”

His eyes flashed briefly, appreciatively, before he gave a noncommittal grunt and stood up, pointing the gun and firing a glowing, green portal.

“So, ever rolled before?” Rick asked, moving in close to you, carefully measuring a small portion of the dust into the vial’s cap.

You blinked, “Uh, like ecstasy? Sure. I think you were there for one of the times.”

“Right, nice. S-so. This is like that. But _moooore_.” Rick’s eyes were manic and glee-filled as he held the filled cap toward you.

You eyed it apprehensively. “How much…more?”

“S-Shit, babe, I-I-I, you know how fuckin rare this stuff is? You think this was _easy_ to get? And-and here I am and I think ‘who is the best person to share this shit with’ and I brought it to you, right? You kno—eeuugh—know why?” He wraps his hand in your hair and tilts your head back slightly, bringing the glittering dust right underneath one of your nostrils. “Because you’re a fucking crazy bitch and I wouldn’t wanna ride this one out with anyone else. So. Let’s go. Rick’s got you.”

One word flashed in your head: _Dangerous._ It was dangerous to constantly entangle yourself sexually or otherwise with this insane, unstable old man. Dangerous to let him feed you space drugs and pull you through different dimensions. Dangerous to allow yourself to be dragged, tripping and wasted, from time to place to plane of existence with someone old enough to be your father...or grandfather. A man whose penchant for hedonism frequently verged on the irresponsible. But probably more dangerous than any of that was the warmth and pride that filled you when Rick said that he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. _Dangerous…and_ _dumb, dumb, dumb._

Inwardly sighing, already knowing you would go wherever he took you and take whatever was offered, you hold his gaze and lift a hand to squeeze shut your other nostril before inhaling the full contents of the lid.

“Good girl,” Rick purred, allowing you to back up as you held your nose shut, trying not to sneeze. There was a slight burn, more tingle than anything. Not harsh at all. Rick took two capfuls for himself, snorting both quickly and efficiently before returning the vial to an inner pocket of his lab coat.

“How come you did two?”

Rick grabbed your hand and pulled you against him again. “One: Higher tolerance for this shit. Two: It’s mine. And three: Mind your business and don’t be greedy. We good? Oh, uh-uh, wait…” Rick had slid his hand over your bottom, the touch making you shiver more than usual. The dust must be kicking in. “What are these?” He pulled at the elastic of your panties through the thin fabric of your dress. “You won’t need them, take ‘em off.”

“B—why?” Your mind was getting a little spacey now.

Rick gripped the back of your head and pressed his mouth to yours, clutching you against him. You moaned in disappointment when he pulled back, breaking the kiss too soon for your liking. His eyes were clear and glassy, the pupils blown out wide enough to see yourself reflected in them. Your eyes were the same, a shared blackness.

“Take them off.” Rick rasped.

Shimmying out of them, you barely had time to kick them off your foot before Rick was dragging you through the portal and to another new unknown.

 


	2. Bat Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I like to come to a place like this first, y-y’know.” Rick’s rumbling voice right under your ear startles you, tearing you out of your own waking dreamscape. “Reeeaaalllly sets the mood for good night. You-you-you start off in a bad place, you’re gonna end in a bad place. Gotta…gotta…eeeaaaaase into things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bleep bloop no sex yet. it's coming, though. how out of character for me, I am so sorry.
> 
> “But our trip was different. It was a classic affirmation of everything right and true and decent in the national character. It was a gross, physical salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country-but only for those with true grit. And we were chock full of that.”  
> ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

When you step out on the other side of the spinning portal, your eyes are assaulted with color. Bright, neon-hued landscape stretches out in front of you in every direction. Pinks, greens, and blues so vivid you feel your eyes water. The field you’re standing in with Rick is flat, occasionally dotted with a strange, squat purple tree with something like tentacles for limbs. You look up at Rick, mouth stretching into a frenzied grin that you can’t seem to stop. The colors _feel_ great. You laugh, clutching his lab coat, nearly doubling over with hysterics.

Rick smiles, taking a sip from his ever-present flask. “That’s right, babe. Feel it.” The corner of his mouth is twitching like he wants to laugh too.

You push away from him, running through the field of spongy pink…grass? Whatever it is, it’s exceptionally springy. You entertain yourself for a few moments by jumping up and down, delighting in the way the ground seemed to push back up when your feet hit it.

“That-that’s nice. Bounce around for me some more. I like that.” Rick called, dropping splay-legged onto the grass and watching you.

You stick your tongue out at him, the blood beating in your ears. You needed to _run._ You did for a bit, laughing breathlessly, delighting in the surge of adrenaline and feel of the air as it rushed past your exposed flesh. You circle around one of the tentacle trees three or four times, staring at the bizarre plant. _Climb it_ , the drug said. Clambering up, you straddle one thick, lumpy branch and start bucking up and down on it like a hobby horse. “Rick!! Rick, look!” You cried, giggling and snorting at your own hilarious antics.

“That’s g-great, baby.” Rick called out, not even looking. He was flat on his back, gangly limbs spread starfish-like, as he stared up at the swirling orange and green sky.

You stop bouncing and pout in his direction when you feel the tree-thing underneath you start to vibrate and hum. “RiiiiIICK, wh-what’s it doing, Rick?” It actually feels pretty good, and more manic giggles start to bubble up in your throat.

“D-Do-eeuugh---onn’t worry. That’s just—just the sound it makes when it’s about to—eeuugh—to start the mating ritual.” He waved a hand carelessly in your direction.

Screeching, you dropped in a graceless heap onto the ground, inching backward as fast as you can away from the gross thing. You turn to look back at Rick with wide, panic-stricken eyes and see him shaking with mirth on the grass. He’s _laughing_ at you. Non-space dust you would be pissed at him for once again pulling some shit that caused you to look like an idiot, but the drug is making everything so goddamn _funny_. You roll onto all fours and start crawling toward him, joining in on his laughter. When you reach him, you flop down beside him on the grass, watching his face. He’s still smiling, staring skyward, his eyes darting around jerkily in every direction. It reminded how eyes moved during REM sleep and you wondered if yours were doing the same thing. You lifted your hands to touch them, then started laughing at your stupid idea, giggling and hiccupping until you were out of breath.

Rick wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him. “Ssshh, chill out.” He trailed a hand lazily down your side, soothing you. You moaned softly, your nerve endings burning like fire beneath his touch. You leaned your cheek on his chest and quieted, allowing the drug to ebb and flow through you, the two of you pulling into yourselves to experience it. Some time passed. Impossible to be sure just how much, given the circumstances and lack of a visible sun.

“I like to come to a place like this first, y-y’know.” Rick’s rumbling voice right under your ear startles you, tearing you out of your own waking dreamscape. “Reeeaaalllly sets the mood for good night. You-you-you start off in a bad place, you’re gonna end in a bad place. Gotta…gotta…eeeaaaaase into things.”

It took a little longer for the meaning of his words to process. “Start off?” This wasn’t the whole plan? You liked this, you felt nice. Dreamy and warm and…you hear Rick’s heartbeat pick up in his chest at the same time your own pulse begins to quicken in your veins. Your comfortable warmth morphs into a flushed heat, causing you to pant and twist your hand in Rick’s lab coat.

“Theeeeere it goes.” Rick breathed, dragging you up to straddle his thin hips. “You didn’t-didn’t think we were just going to lay in a field and look at pretty colors d-did you? How boring do you think I am?” He has a hold of your hips now, fingers flexing and digging as he rolls you, back and forth, down on his growing erection. The rough seam of his pants, not impeded by any undergarments on your part, rubs deliciously against your over-sensitized clit. The feeling, amplified ten-fold by the chemicals, has you screaming, already on the verge of orgasm. Rick groans, switching positions so that you’re underneath him, knobbly knees pinning you down against the soft alien grass.

His hands slide up and down your body, squeezing, caressing, scratching, frenzied and hungry. His voice, when he speaks, is low and rough. “Sh-Shit, we gotta, we gotta go…people gotta…gotta see you. Fuck you’re so fucking sexy god _damn_ , let-let’s-let’s—we have to _go.”_ Your eyes roll back in your head, not comprehending the meaning of his words so much as the feeling behind them. It sounds like he’s going to fuck you…why isn’t he fucking you?

With that thought, you’re jerked onto your feet by Rick who, somehow, is already standing. When did that happen? Flinging yourself against him, you begin struggling to unbuckle his belt, whining when he knocks your hands away briskly. “Riiiick, I just want to…”

Grabbing your face, Rick presses his mouth to yours with a bruising force. You groan and claw at his chest desperately, making him laugh. “I know! I fuckin’ _know_ , babe. And you’ll get to, truuust me. But juh-just fucking wait for this next part…the best hasn’t even staaaaarted yet, you-you’ll see.” His grin is lopsided and slightly deranged as he pulls out the portal gun to set it for your next destination. You feel yourself filling with a surge of manic energy; a sudden, overwhelming need to _move_ overtaking you.

Rick is looking a little antsy too, he’s almost vibrating as he holds out his arm, aiming his device. “You ready?”

Jumping back and forth on the balls of your feet, you scream “I’ll go wherever you WANT, you crazy old bastard, let’s fucking GO!”

Barking a laugh, Rick fires the gun and shoves you through the new portal. Before your temporary dimensional separation, you’re pretty sure you hear him say, “That’s my girl.”


	3. Tune In, Freak Out, Get Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride...and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well...maybe chalk it off to forced conscious expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten.”  
> ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets violent!!! There is sex!! Violent! Drug! Sex!
> 
> thank you for reading.♥

Bright colored lights and heavy, thumping bass. Your hands lift to your cheeks as you stare at your new surroundings, your brain pulsing in time with the music and the strobe lights. A hand on your shoulder has you jumping and spinning around, finding your face only inches from Rick’s. His eyes are lit with the same fevered energy that you feel coursing through your own body, and your lips stretch in a grin to match his own.

You want to communicate with him, to tell him that this place is great, that the music feels _amazing_ against your skin, and the lights are warm and make you want to move, but the words don’t come. Rick laughs in answer, though, like you did say all those things to him. Maybe you did? The separation between your spoken words and silent thoughts is starting to blur a little.

His fingers wrap around your shoulders as he shakes you, “I know!” The words vibrate between the two of you for a moment.

There’s a sensation to your right, like someone has leaned against your ear and is whispering into it. You turn your head and point in that direction. “We need to go _there!”_ Your voice is low and calm. Or maybe it’s shrill and frenzied. Both at once, it seems to you.

“Yes, YES!” Rick hisses, pulling you toward the area you had indicated. In every corner, shapes twist and gyrate, movements echoing the pounding music that swells and constricts, almost as though the club itself is breathing around you. The shapes are other people. Well, other…things. Being human clearly has you in the minority here. You drag your hands along one being as you are yanked past it, its flesh is soft like a fleece blanket and shoots sparks as your fingers graze it, making you shriek and laugh. It turns four opaque silver orbs toward you on what must be its face, and you waggle your fingers playfully at it as you are dragged forcibly backward by your companion.

“D-Don’t touch anyone—anything!” Rick shouts from somewhere, his voice echoing.

You’re alone now. Where is he? You turn your head to find him, the sinewy movement of your neck turning back and forth feels incredible. You’re by yourself in a cleared space in the club, maybe a dancefloor. _Where is Rick?_ Ahead of you is a cage where two willowy, supple creatures twist and spin seductively to the music. Your eyes track their movements, your body attempting to mimic their sinuous dance. You shut your eyes, the music rolling through you, letting your hips and limbs move and sway to the pounding bass. You feel hands on your body, _your own?_ Something solid and warm presses against you from behind, grinding with you to the beat. _Rick?_ In front of you, another mass of warmth and muscle, more hands now, trailing over your breasts, between your legs. Something warm and wet along your neck, you tilt your head for more, the sensations overwhelming you. You’re moaning—or you’re screaming. There is a sound, it’s coming from you. You’re almost positive. No, wait…

_Flash_. Your eyes are suddenly open and the dance floor is crowded. To your left is a scuffle, your mind working through the haze as hands grip and grind against you from all sides. You’re seized roughly by more familiar callous hands, screeching in indignation as you’re dragged bodily from the packed space and deposited into an abandoned alcove under a staircase.

“What the _fuck_??” Rick shakes you, your head flopping back and forth on your neck dangerously. “Why did you run away?”

You’re howling, holding onto the lapels on his lab coat, trying to steady yourself. “You… _left_ …me!” You manage to breathe out between fits of laughter.

Rick looks confused for a second, fighting through his own drug-induced fog to remember. “No, we were going to get a drink. Y-you-you _need_ to stay with me, j-just…ohhh _fuck_.” His eyes trail over your body and he presses close. Hands assaulting you again, though this time you know who they belong to. One cuffs you under your chin, fitting against your throat and holding your head straight as its brother slips beneath your dress to tease your aching slit. “D-Do you know what it felt like watching—watching you with th-those _whatevers_ , their hands on you, oh no, no, fuck that you-you’re…” Rick’s eyes are wild and hot, his grip on your throat growing tighter as his fingers work faster against your clit, the movement slippery and unfocused.

On an impulse that you can’t fully explain, you shove Rick backward off of you, reaching your hand down the front of his trousers and grabbing his half-erect cock by the base. Rick swears when you yank him forward by his root, chest heaving and eyes heavy on you.

“I want to _dance._ ” You enunciate your point with a stroke of his organ, now fully hard in your hand. “Up _there_.” You point upward with your unoccupied hand, Rick’s eyes either following the movement or rolling back in his head as you continue stroking him in the damp, enclosed space of his pants. The upper level of the club seemed full of more frenetic energy, the combined heartbeats and pulses of the writhing, bouncing inhabitants made your blood sing, calling out for you to join. In a flash of lucidity, you think _oh my god, I am so high_.

The thought doesn’t stick though, just becomes pushed upward like an unwelcome cloud and puffs away on the breeze. You shake yourself, one hand still sticky and clammy on Rick’s organ. He’s watching you, waiting for you do something more. You give his shaft one more good tug, Rick letting loose a short, barking pant. “I _want_ that drink,” you demand.

“Ffffuck, fine, fine, let me go, unnh.” Rick growls, reaching down to adjust himself when you finally release him. He stares around like this is the first time he’s taken in his surroundings. One of his hands lifts slowly, moving toward his face, and then is quickly dropped, with no explanation for the gesture. His eyes snap to you, pupils dilated, his expression deadly serious. “Wait for me here. Right fucking here, ok?” You nod.

Before he’s even fully turned on his heel to leave, you’re flying up the stairs, throwing yourself into the gyrating crowd on the dancefloor. No real reason except the call of your blood to move and the restless energy that had you vibrating when you stood still for too long. _You want him to chase you_. --Drug thought or sober thought?

You amuse yourself for a few songs, riding the tide of the music, grinding and bumping against anyone one or thing that decided to join you. Someone’s mouth mashes against yours and you kiss back greedily, laughing when they pull away. “More!” You scream, to no one in particular.

Then you hear it. Even over the pounding and wailing of the alien disco, there it is again, clear as anything. A gravelly, determined roar. Your name. Rick’s voice. You bolt.

Well, you _attempt_ to bolt. The pull and crush of the crowd is too much for your dust-addled coordination and you keep getting distracted by the press of bodies around you. Rick, far more accustomed to slipping through wasted aliens while under the influence of various illegal chemicals, has no problems wading through the onslaught, closing the distance between you. You still manage to break the edge of the dancers first, running as fast as your shaking legs would take you, in what direction you didn’t care, as long as it was _away_. A hand closes on your shoulder, making you scream as you trip and fall to the ground. Your wrists and hands stop your face from making a painful impact with the floor, but your head is still jarred hard enough to cause you to bite down on your tongue, and you feel your mouth fill with blood. Rick wraps a hand on your ankle, he apparently went down when you did, and you kick desperately at his attempts to pull you backward.

“Calm the FUCK oooof—“ Rick is cut off, his grip breaking as your uncaptured foot makes solid contact with the bottom half of his face, nose crunching beneath your boot. You begin scrambling backward, Rick cursing, hands fumbling in the pocket of his coat as thick, dark blood pours over his lips and down his chin. You’re able to get to your feet and move to crouch low, watching him.

“Don’t fucking do it.” Rick warns thickly, pulling out his portal gun. Hysterical laughter burns in your chest, your own blood pooling down your chin as you shriek gleefully and turn to leave.

He’s so fast. How did he get so fast? In one move, he has his right arm wrapped around your middle, left held straight out to fire a portal, pushing you both through smoothly and efficiently.

You land on the other side, a snarling, kicking whirlwind. Rick lets go of you quickly, standing up to yank off his lab coat, using it to mop up the still flowing trails of blood under his nostrils. “What a-What a fucking shit show back there, jesus. The fuck is your problem, huh?”

You stand unsteadily, spitting a mouthful of blood into your palm. You stare at it, another dust-induced impulse creeping into you. Rushing up to Rick while he’s still muttering and cursing, you reach back, bringing that blood and spit covered hand across his cheek with a loud, wet _smack._ Rick’s face shuts down, his gaze becoming shuttered and dark. One side of your mouth twitches in a crooked grin.

In another one of his uncanny, lightning-fast movements, Rick’s hand collides against your own cheek, with at least three times the force of your slap. The pain is bright and blinding, knocking your head to the side sharply. Your cheekbone throbs, the area flushing with heat and blood. Your breathing hitches once, then twice, as you laugh with the mounting pain. You whisper something low between bursts of giggles.

“W- _what?”_ Rick holds completely still now, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“More.” You turn your head to face him again, red teeth bared.

Rick snorts, running a hand through his hair. “You-you’re…” He looks like he’s about to start shaking his head, but then his own lips start tugging into a red-smeared grin, as if he can’t help himself. He holds up a hand, curls his fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture.

You fly at him, closed fist making solid impact with his chin. You’ve never punched anyone before and it feels fucking _great._ His head is rocked back a little, and you raise your arm to throw another. Rick’s much more practiced fist lands with bone-jarring contact on your cheek and mouth, sending you reeling backward, almost causing you to lose your footing and fall. You wipe a trail of blood from your split lip, Rick chuckling darkly.

“Y-you, uh, you sure you wanna do this, kid?”

Keeping your head low, you charge him, throwing all your weight behind your arms as you shove forward. He isn’t prepared, tripping and falling backward, but still managing to first grab a handful of your hair and drag you down with him. Landing with a hard thud as his head bounces on the ground, Rick stares upward, temporarily dazed. You seize the opportunity, glancing frantic blows on his chest, collarbone, the sides of his head, as you straddle him. Rick grunts, throwing his left arm, fist landing harshly into your soft side. As you gasp with the pain, Rick capitalizes on your temporary pause to knock you back with a hard shove between your breasts. He crawls over you, drug-crazed and blood-soaked. You probably look the same.

Rick settles his weight over you, twisting a hand in your hair roughly and bending your neck at an uncomfortable angle. He administers a volley of rapid-fire smacks to your already sore and aching face, making you scream and buck up underneath him in protest. You reach forward for something to grab, yanking and pulling at his shirt until you can slip your hands underneath, raking and dragging your nails against the flesh you come in contact with, drawing blood.

With a hissing laugh, Rick bends over to sink his teeth into your vulnerable neck, breaking the skin as you begin punching and scraping at his chest with more desperate fervor. Against your belly, you feel his erection, solid and grinding against you as he angles your neck to bite the other side. You wrap a hand around it through the cloth of his pants and twist with all your strength, making him roar in pain and knock your hand away. You start laughing again as Rick gets a hand around both your wrists and slams them into the floor above your head, pinning you. He has both his legs on either side of your chest now, his heavy weight making breathing laborious. With his free arm, he reaches behind him and between your thighs to swipe a finger through your gathered wetness, sliding it upward to rub directly against your clit, quick and harsh. Your body softens beneath him as you moan and arch into his touch.

“Th-that’s all it takes, huh? Feisty little slut,” Rick purrs, removing his hand from between your legs and shoving his soaking fingers into your open mouth. You glare up at him, swiping your tongue along the digits twice before snapping your jaw shut, sinking your teeth into the skin of his fingers as hard as you can. Rick swears loudly and releases your trapped arms, yanking his bitten hand away from your mouth.

You wiggle out from underneath him, pushing him back so he lands on his bottom, long legs splayed on either side of you. Climbing his lanky frame, you press your mouth against him, swiping your tongue along his when he parts his lips with a groan. The metallic tang of blood, his and yours, fills your mouth and sends you even further into a frenzy. You’re both tearing at one another’s clothes, no attention paid to zippers or buttons, no regard for the skin that got in the way of nails as you ripped and tore at the offending fabric. You slide a hand down his chest, fingers dragging through a few thin trails of blood that still ran from the deeper gashes. Reaching lower, you wrap a blood-slicked palm around his shaft, pumping the hot, velvety flesh until Rick’s breathing is ragged. When you lift your hips and center him over your damp entrance, Rick growls and thrusts upward, slamming into you to the hilt. You cry out breathlessly as he sets a brutal pace, bouncing you up and down on his thick cock with rough fingertips dug into your hips.

His eyes are squeezed shut and he’s muttering in Spanish, voice guttural and low. His eyes snap open and he repeats something, it sounds like a command. You can only stare at him, his deep, pounding thrusts bringing you closer to the edge with every second. “Wh-wha?” You pant in query.

One of Rick’s hands flies up to your throat, crushing shut your airway as his gaze burns into yours. “Hit me again,” he spits, increasing the force of his thrusts. You moan, pulling back a fist and letting it fly, landing it with a crunch right below his eye. Rick groans, gripping you and falling backward to lay flat on his back. “Ffuuck, yesss. _More._ ” His hands drag you back and forth along his length, your hips rolling frantically, searching for more friction. You fall forward to allow your hips more freedom of movement, bucking and grinding against him as you wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.

Rick’s fingernails cut deep crescents into your hips, the bright burst of fresh pain sending your frazzled nerves into overdrive. Your orgasm spreads through your limbs like hot lightning, terrifying in its intensity. Your legs shake with the force of it and as you scream wordlessly, riding it out. Below you, Rick’s eyes roll back, as a cause of his own completion or lack of breath, you’re not sure. Maybe both. You collapse on top of him, boneless and sated.

When pulses slow and breath is caught, Rick rolls you onto your side, his softening organ slipping from you and a gush of liquid following. “Mmm,” you rub your thighs together, enjoying the warm slickness of his cum mixed with your own juices. “That was nice,” You breathe, leaning your forehead against his chest, your eyes getting heavy.

Rick’s chest rumbles against you as he chuckles, and you imagine him shaking his head. He slides a hand softly over your hair, the gesture uncharacteristically tender. “You’re _fucking crazy,”_ he sounded admiring.

You smile, drifting off amid a sea of lingering space drugs and post-orgasmic bliss. Tomorrow there would be plenty of pain. No sense worrying about it yet, though.


End file.
